


eat your heart and lick it clean

by homobirb



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Gen, Horror, Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homobirb/pseuds/homobirb
Summary: "Before we start, I'd like to apologize for the mess I've surely made. I've tried to use my umbrella, but I'm afraid that the blood still got on my rain boots. I can assure you, though, it's notmyblood, although I don't know how much assurance that provides considering the fact of the matter is that there's still blood on my shoes—and as much as I've tried to wipe it away before coming in here, I can still see the reddish boot prints I've made all over your nice carpet."Statement of Katie Larson, regarding an alien weatherman.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020, borb's btb 2020 works





	eat your heart and lick it clean

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from [grenadine by deadlight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4yQagdH7Sk)
> 
> written for the banned together bingo, prompt “alien weatherman”
> 
> ik im hyperfixating on bnha dead dove fics rn, but i couldnt really figure out a way to swing it that way for this prompt. doing a statement fic felt like it fit better, and gave me some practice working with ocs. also im only on s3 i think? of tma, so this vaguely takes place near the beginning. 
> 
> disclaimer: not brit-picked

"Statement of Katie Larson, regarding an alien weatherman. Original statement given October 27, 2013. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins," Jonathan says, adjusting his reading glasses and double checking that the little recorder on his desk was actually recording.

"Before we start, I'd like to apologize for the mess I've surely made. I've tried to use my umbrella, but I'm afraid that the blood still got on my rain boots. I can assure you, though, it's not _my_ blood, although I don't know how much assurance that provides considering the fact of the matter is that there's still blood on my shoes—and as much as I've tried to wipe it away before coming in here, I can still see the reddish boot prints I've made all over your nice carpet."

Jonathan pauses to take a breath. The paper in his hands is clean, if not slightly aged, and he's grateful for the distinct lack of blood on it, although he is a bit more than mildly suspicious of the claim’s validity. 

"Anyway, that's what I've come to talk to you about. Well, the blood and something else. It all started maybe a couple months ago. I was browsing on a forum—I don't even remember what it was it was originally about. Some kind of television or movie group? I'm always on the hunt for finding new sites to stream from, with new content, the weirder the better. And don't get me wrong, I've got a television license, but they just don't show many things that I like.

"There was this one post that stood out to me. In it, there was just a link to a website and a short description that read, 'I think I've found something for everyone on here.' There were plenty of replies, thanking the person and telling them they were excited to watch the new shows. So, of course, I said fuck it and visited the site.

"It was pretty cheap, for a streaming service. Only a couple of pounds per month, and it fit well enough in my budget. I put in my credit card details and then started browsing. Although, when I later checked my bill, the charge was never listed. I didn't question it, assuming it to be some sort of billing error. I may be comfortable, financially, but I wasn't going to point it out to anyone; my account still logged in fine and I could view everything, so why bother?

"There were all sorts of weird shows on there. Foreign films with plots that almost didn't make sense, movies that actually _didn’t_ make any sense, and the weather show. I don't remember what it's called, or whether it even had a name, but every day there was a new episode. And for whatever reason, the site wouldn't let me watch any of the previous episodes.

"It started out relatively normal. The weatherman—err, weather _person_ , was a woman. She was actually quite gorgeous, her skin dark brown with these adorable little freckles all over her cheeks and nose, with soft purple hair that was shaved on one side, and her ear had probably more than ten piercings alone, and these thick black frames that perched right on the tip of her nose. And she always wore this bright red raincoat that seemed almost like it was actually a part of her body.”

"Anyways, the first day I watched it, the forecast was normal. Jordan, she'd said her name was, described how there'd be sun for the next day, but that 'viewers should prepare for an upcoming storm during the weekend.' I wasn't sure how, but it seemed that Jordan always described the weather centered around my address, although it never outright said as such. Which was strange, considering the show was on a streaming site, and it didn't seem like it was only available in the UK, let alone in just my local area. To be honest, I didn't entirely question it. I mean, would you?

“Either way, the weird bit didn’t start until later that week. I mean, the _really_ weird bit. It was a Friday and I’d just got done with work; I’m an accountant, and though I am civil with my co-workers, we do not enjoy any sort of friendly relationship outside of that. It was raining, and I’d spent my entire workday listening to the steady beat of rain against the roof. I’ve always found the sounds of a storm to be calming, and so I was fully ready to go home, get in some comfy pyjamas, and watch another weird movie with the continued ambiance of a cozy storm.

“I was not calm when I stepped outside my work building. There was red, dripping everywhere, sprayed all over windshields and creating these grotesque puddles in the street. And it wasn’t clear; no, it was this viscous fluid that stuck to everything. I honestly thought I walked out to a murder scene. And the worst bit was the smell, an overwhelming copper.

“No one else seemed phased, and I’m not one to rock the boat, so I just took a deep breath, steeled myself, and began my walk down to the Tube. Which was not entirely covered, so I couldn’t avoid getting what I now know was blood on all of my clothes. Oh, I don’t know if I remembered to mention this before, but in regards to the bloody boot prints I left, the best things to take out blood are salt and water, or hydrogen peroxide. And use cold water! Whatever you do, do _not_ use hot water, it will only set the stain and then it’ll be impossible to get out. Lost a good work blouse that way.

“Anyway, I got home, with some splatters of blood on my clothes, washed them out, and then settled in for a long night of watching weird horror films to take my mind off of it. And I thought that was just it, a stressful day at work, but that was only the beginning.”

Jonathan pauses to suck in a deep breath. He continues after the exhale.

“I watched the weather show the next morning. Jordan was there, as always, this time with blood red lipstick that matched her coat, although now that I think about it, that might’ve just been blood staining her lips. And then she said the weirdest thing: ‘the storm is anticipated to worsen today, though gifts from other beings outside this planet may also rain down.’

“I went about my day as normal after that. I’d gotten used to the red film of blood that coated the outside of my window and as long as I didn’t think too hard about it, I was able to pretend that everything was fine. Until I went out to throw out my garbage.

“I was holding an umbrella, and wearing shorts and rain boots so whatever blood splashed on me could be quickly wiped off. I’d just put my garbage bag in the bin when something urged me to stop. I looked up, across the street, and there was Jordan from the weather show. But something was…off about her. She smiled at me, but even from across the street I could see that her teeth were sharp, way too sharp to be normal. And then she crossed the street and headed right towards me.

“I froze. As she got closer, I kept noticing all these details that were _wrong_ : Jordan didn’t stop smiling, and her lips looked shiny and red and _wet_ , as though there was blood all over them. The whites of her eyes were now black, almost like her pupils had swallowed up the rest of her eyeballs. She walked right up to me and looked me directly in the eyes, and it was then that I noticed that while the rest of the world was absolutely coated in the blood-rain, she wasn’t, as though something about her repelled the liquid away from her. She wasn’t human, I know that now. My suspicions are that she’s not from this planet entirely, though aside from that one comment on the show the previous night, I don’t have any solid evidence for that claim. And then, without saying a word, she gently grabbed my hand and held it out, past my umbrella, opening my fingers until it formed a small cup, right past the edge of my umbrella.

“And then a heart landed right inside of it. It was deep red, with some speckles of white pockets of fat, and it was very squishy. I may have nearly failed biology back in school, but I knew immediately it was human. I wanted to scream, to drop the heart, but Jordan wouldn’t let me, her hand holding mine like a vice. She kept smiling and then I watched with absolute horror and disgust as she…bit into the heart, raw flesh and all. And I just stood there, watching her chew, watching her shut her eyes and her eyebrows scrunch up, and listened to her hum in pleasure.

“The rest of the incident was a lot less clear, so to speak. She let me drop the heart, but she pressed forward, into my space, and then…she kissed me. Right on the mouth. I was still frozen, so I imagine kissing me was like kissing a statue, but Jordan didn’t seem to mind. She pulled back and smiled at me, and then she just walked away.

“I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t well call emergency, and the heart was no longer on the sidewalk where I had dropped it, though where it landed was instead occupied by a rather large red puddle that hadn’t been there before. And so I just took the incident and compartmentalized it, shoved it to the back of my mind and continued on with my life, just as I continued to ignore the blood stains whenever it rained. Until I got drunk one night with a close friend and ended up spilling the entire story to her. She didn’t see the blood, either, but she did suggest I make a statement here, so here I am. I haven’t watched the weather show since, but every so often the hairs will rise at the back of my neck and there’ll be Jordan, just at the edges of my vision, waiting, watching. Smiling, with those sharp teeth. She’s otherwise left me alone so far, but I do fear for the possibility of a day where that changes..

“Statement ends.”

Jonathan lets out a large breath, raking his fingers through his hair. He’s been at the job for several months already, but each statement feels more and more intense, and it takes a bit to come back down after he’s finished for the day.

“Right. Well, um, follow-up on this statement is quite short. Ms. Larson went missing a week after giving her statement. Her employer called the police for a welfare check after she didn’t show up for work several days in a row with no notice, and when they went to Ms. Larson’s flat, the door was unlocked. Surprisingly, it was empty of everything. All except for a bright red raincoat and rain boots covered in what later was identified to be human blood, belonging to Ms. Larson. Additionally, the janitor on duty the day Ms. Larson gave her statement has unfortunately passed, and no one working that day recalls whether or not there were actually any bloody footprints on our carpets. As of recording, there has been no update in regards to finding Ms. Larson’s whereabouts No further follow-up can be done at this time. Statement facts suggest possible hallucination, illness, suicide, et cetera…and Martin would be upset if I didn’t mention this, but as Ms. Larson herself suggested, an alien weatherman with what seems to be a taste for human flesh. Although I have my doubts, of course. End recording.”

Jonathan stops the recorder. He ejects the tape and labels it with the statement number, then places it in the basket with all the other finished statements ready to be filed away.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr,](https://itshomobirb.tumblr.com/) [my nsfw twitter,](https://twitter.com/homobirb) and [my sfw twitter](https://twitter.com/frozenborbsicle)
> 
> ok yeah it is kinda ambiguous on what exactly jordan was, but im putting it here: i did intend for her to be an alien. an alien weatherman…person, to be specific, and to fit the prompt.


End file.
